Crack Is Whack!
by Figure.10
Summary: Some pairings are cannon, some are crack...these are just whack. Each chapter is a different insane crack pairing. M for sexual content. Second chapter up- Clyde/Taco.
1. Hennifer LopezKyle

Note: My love of crack pairings got me thinking...what about just running wild and doing a whole bunch of them? I'm not sure how many chapters this will be eventually...but let's find out, shall we?

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Chapter One: Hennifer Lopez/Kyle

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13-year-old Kyle Broflovski lay on his stomach on his bed, flipping causally through the pages of a book on String Theory he had borrowed from his little brother. The idea that the entire universe could be created out of tiny, vibrating strings of energy fascinated him. That the atom might not be the smallest entity. That a long-accepted opinion could be disproved in an instant. Kyle turned a page and gazed intently at the pen-and ink drawing of a mock-up of a string, the lines slightly blurry without his glasses Even though it was summer vacation, but Kyle had nothing to do today.

Kyle heard a babble of voices from downstairs and looked up. He recognised one voice immediately; that of his arch nemesis. He furrowed his brow when he heard the familiar creak of the front door swinging open. Cartman had probably come over to ask Kyle for money again. He had been doing that often lately. Apparently the economic downturn had affected Cartman's mother's 'business'... Kyle chuckled at the thought. Soon heavy footsteps came booming up the stairs, and in spite of his vocal and profane protest, his door swung open with a shove. Cartman stood there with a familiar face painted on his fist. Kyle rolled his eyes. Not again...

"Hello, Kyle, my name is Hennifer Lopez, I like tacos and burritos."

"Goddamn it Cartman, stop it with that hand thing."

"Oh Kyle, why you no like me?" The fat boy walked closer to Kyle and put his fist inches away from his face. Kyle swatted at it impatiently.

"What do you want, Cartman?", Kyle asked the smiling eyes on Cartman's chubby hand, "I'm not giving you money."

Cartman gave a melodramatic sigh and turned around to leave. The redhead was more than a little surprised. It was never this easy to get rid of him.

"I should have known, well c'mon Ms. Lopez, looks like we won't have any money for tacos"

Kyle clenched his teeth, why did Cartman keep insisting his hand had free will? Why did he insist on pulling this shit when he was trying to read? Why did Cartman hate him so? He was pulled out of his fuming by an argument between Cartman and his painted hand:

"But we're bothering him, Ms. Lopez!"

"But Kyle is so _sexy_."

Kyle blushed angrily and and tightened his grip on his book. He could see Cartman's lips moving. This wasn't funny any more...it hadn't been since they were nine.

"We have to leave!"

"just let me give him a kiss, hmm?"

"Ms. Lopez, you're being very unreasonable."

"Taco-flavoured kisses for my Kyle!"

"That's enough!", Kyle yelled, getting up from his bed and shaking his fist at Cartman and Hennifer, "Get the fuck out of my room you fat, lying fuck!"

"Oh now see, you made Kyle angry at us Ms. Lopez!"

Cartman's hand didn't seem to listening to it's owner. It shot forward closer to Kyle's face. The redhead growled as Hennifer pressed herself against his mouth, making kissing motions at his lips. This was quickly going from simply rage-inducing to just plain creepy.

"Stop this shit.", Kyle finally yelled.

"I'm not doing anything!"

"Mmm, Kyle..you taste like kosher hot-dogs.."

"Ms. Lopez, that's disgusting!"

Kyle had had enough of the fatass's mock-surprise at what his own hand was doing. He moved to push Cartman's hand away from his when it started shoving him backwards. He fell back on Ike's book and his bed, looking thoroughly bewildered. This was not normal behaviour, even for someone as feisty as Hennifer Lopez.

"Cartman! what the fu-"

"C'mon, chollo, let's have a little _fun_."

Before he could so much as blink, Kyle found himself pinned back against the sheets by the insistent Hennifer. She nuzzled his chest and neck and continued to make kissing motions at his skin. Cartman simply pulled the String Theory book out from under Kyle, as if this would somehow make him more comfortable.

"I don't know what's wrong, she's out of control!"

Kyle scrambled to sit up on the bed, though when he did so he found Cartman's unruly fist had slipped down his chest to his lower stomach. He glared at Cartman. Why the hell was he touching him there? The fat boy crawled up on the bed in front of Kyle, still looking shocked. His hand slipped lower down and Kyle cursed loudly. He struggled but found it impossible with Hennifer Lopez rubbing incessantly against the front of his pants.

"Get the hell off me, fatass!"

"Ooooh now Kyle..I only want to touch your sexy body..."

Hennifer unzipped the fly of the redhead's jeans and his body twitched. Kyle's recent puberty may have given him some changes he enjoyed, but this sensitivity to touch...no matter who was touching him, was proving to be problematic. Cartman looked on in what he guessed was very convincing fake shock. Kyle blushed deeply as he felt his body betray him, pushing through the fly of his underwear.

"Ms. Lopez..._really_."

Kyle's attempt at a yell caught in his throat. The fist was rubbing against his length slowly. He had never been touched like this. Had only done it a handful of times to himself. It was so embarrassing...Kyle always found himself stopping before he got too excited.

"Stop.", he whimpered.

"Mm no, chollo, I think you _like_ it."

Kyle bit his lip. Cartman's horny fist now had a grasp on his penis. He tried almost half-heartedly to move away from the intimate contact, but found it impossible once more. Hennifer was now stroking up and down, pausing only to squeeze her painted lips together at the head. An involuntary moan escaped Kyle's lips. He blushed deeper. He was so exposed. Cartman was watching him.

"You..you can control everything she's duh..doing..stop it!

"You really want me to stop now?", Cartman said in his own voice, "Really?"

"Yes!", Kyle cried out.

The contact ceased immediately. Kyle's eyes shot open. It felt like his balls were going to explode. He looked down at himself, closer than he had ever been to orgasm, and then desperately back at the fat boy with a hand on his cock. It was horrible and embarrassing and so very, very wrong, but Kyle needed this- wanted this so bad right now.

"Cartman.."

"_Beg_ me for it, Jew."

Kyle scrunched up his face. His body was shaking. It was starting to hurt.

"Nnn..p-please.."

Cartman grinned. The moment his hand returned to Kyle's aching member, his whole body shuddered. The strokes seemed to feel so much better. Tears dotted the redhead's eyelids as he cried out again and again. It felt overwhelming and scary, but really, really good.

"Tell me to go faster.", The fat boy demanded.

"Ah!..mnnff.."

"Tell me or I'll stop!", he threatened.

"Faster!", Kyle yelled, clapping his hand over his mouth when he realised how loud he had been.

Hennifer stroked faster, making Kyle pant. His toes curled. A strange feeling of pressure was building in the base of his hips. Part of him wanted to stop the weird feeling and kick Cartman's ass for torturing him like this, but stopping felt horrible. There had to be some culmination, some end...

Something was starting to come out! It hurt! It hurt so bad! The contractions running through Kyle's terrified body were pushing something out of him. He grabbed the sheets and screamed. It felt like his brain was turning to mush. Clear fluid spurted out and onto Cartman's disguised hand.

"ah..ha...mn..ah..I hate you..I hate you so much."

Cartman laughed, wiping Kyle's first release down the front of the tired boy's shirt. "You're such a tight-ass Jew, Kahl, maybe if you did that more often you'd loosen up a bit."

Kyle scowled and pulled his knees up to to his sticky chest. "Just get the hell out of my room!"

"Oh Kyle, can we be friends now?", said a dishevelled-looking Hennifer Lopez, her lipstick greatly smudged.

"NO!", yelled the angry Jewish boy, "Fuck off!"

Cartman laughed and waltzed out of Kyle's room, slamming the door.

Kyle sat on his bed for a while and sulked. That was horrible. He would never, ever forgive Cartman for violating him like that. He moved one knee away from his chest tentatively, the semen stain on his shirt making it stick. Kyle looked at his flaccid penis and gave it a little poke. He shivered. It felt so sensitive. Maybe he _should_ do that more often.


	2. ClydeTaco

This chapter is...disturbing. The pairing is Clyde/Taco. Prepare for some hot taco lovin's~

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Most people have a favourite food. Some particular dish they would choose above all others, maybe even live off of exclusively for a week or two. Clyde Donovan was no different. Clyde's favourite food in the whole wide world was beef tacos, or more specifically, the ones his mother made for dinner every Friday. The only difference was that Clyde's love of tacos had long ago turned from a mere preference to an obsession.

It all started in 3rd grade. Clyde's mother was tired of her husband and son complaining about her spinach casserole and found a recipe for beef tacos online. They were a huge success when she served them for dinner that night. Clyde in particular loved the new food. He ate three of them in about an hour, and asked for more. At the time Mrs. Donovan was glad to see her young son appreciated her cooking so much, but soon Clyde's love for tacos grew into something..more.

The now teen-aged boy would often take a taco away with him from the dinner table. His mother scolded him at first for bringing messy food up to his room, but after the fighting led her nowhere she eventually gave up. Clyde would often spend what seemed like hours after dinner in his room. He would lock the door and not even respond when his friends called. Clyde had a secret, Mrs. Donovan was sure of it.

On this particular Friday night, Clyde was home from his friend Craig's house at exactly 6:30 for dinner. When he walked in the door, he greeted his mother and father jovially and took his seat at the large oak table. Clyde put his napkin in his lap and turned his plate so that the crown of the floral design was pointed at his stomach. The ritual had begun.

"How was your day, sweetie?", Mrs. Donovan asked her son. She knew he didn't like talking at the table on Friday nights, but he had been spending an awful lot of time out of the house lately.

"Pretty good", Clyde answered, fidgeting in his seat and smoothing the napkin on his lap, "Craig got a new paintball gun."

His mother rolled her eyes and passed Clyde a bowl of salad, not that he normally ate salad. Especially on a Friday. "You kids are going to hurt yourselves with those things", she warned.

Clyde simply gave himself a bit of salad with the tongs and poked at it. Mrs. Donovan smiled at her son in exasperation. It seemed she was loosing influence on her little boy. He still played paintball with Craig, and he still ate far too many tacos.

She got up from the table to prepare them, Clyde's father came through the door just after, back from his job at the shoe store. He was a large, bearded man, with a bald spot in the centre of his head. He smiled broadly at his wife and son. "Good evening, Sweetheart."

Mrs. Donovan gave her husband a kiss and he sat down, turning to his son. Clyde was a good boy. Really he was. He just had some...odd habits. Taco night was one of the strangest. If only he knew.

"Excited for taco night, eh Clyde?"

The boy gave his father a slightly forced smile. He liked it quiet at the dinner table. Silence was what enjoying a taco required.

Mrs. Donovan returned to the table with a plate of beef tacos. She served her son first- giving him the biggest one. That was usually the taco he kept for later. The family ate in silence for a while before Mr. Donovan spoke. "Son, don't you think you're eating a little fast?"

Clyde was only on his second taco. He didn't see what all the fuss was about. "Naw", he said through a mouthful of beef and cheese. He couldn't help himself. The mere thought of what he was about to do was so exciting. So taboo. He wanted it as soon as possible.

Quietly. Almost stealthily, Clyde grabbed the last taco and held it under the table. His hands were starting to shake. He could feel the hard tortilla rub softly against his thigh. Almost time.

"May I be excused?"

Mrs. Donovan looked up from her salad and nodded. She sighed as her son rushed upstairs to his room. He always finished dinner so quickly on taco night. Her husband smiled at her. "Don't worry, honey, I'm sure Clyde is fine."

At the moment, he was feeling better than fine. Clyde could feel his heart race shut the door to his room and sat down on his red bean-bag chair, clutching his beefy prize in his hand. It was so warm...so ready. So..arousing.

Clyde took a deep breath and set the taco on his lap. He unzipped his fly slowly, head racing with the forbidden act he was about to preform. There was just something about tacos. The shape of the shell, the delicious smell, the warmth and tanginess of the inside. He pulled himself out slowly, running a shaking finger down the pulsing vein on the underside of his penis.

He picked up the taco and guided it carefully onto his erection. Clyde bit his lip. It had been too long, he thought as moved his hips slowly up and down. He tried jacking off in other ways, to other things. He even had an object of affection, but this feeling was different. The smell of warm skin and salty taco shell...it just wasn't the comparable to how he felt about Craig..nothing got Clyde hard like tacos.

No matter what he tried to stimulate himself, it seemed the only key to his libido was this. The taco he was making controlled thrusts into, stopping to rub the bumpy sides of the shell against his penis every so often. Clyde moaned. He grabbed at the beanbag chair and arched his back. He had to be careful. If he didn't control himself, he could cum at any minute.

Clyde's pants were staining with taco sauce and sour cream. He held the taco with both hands to still the shaking running through his body. The stimulation was driving him crazy, but it had to last, the longer he waited, the better his orgasm was. He reached down to massage his balls with one hand, the other pressing his penis deeper into the warm confines of the taco.

A deep moan escaped his lips. He couldn't hold on any longer. Clyde started to thrust in faster as he felt the the warm, juicy beef and sauce slicking up his hardened skin. He held the taco still as he released into it, flooding the meaty centre with cum.

Clyde brought the dripping taco up to his mouth and slowly, shakily, yet almost sensually, took a bite, the salty smooth new taste making him moan under his breath. He loved this taste. Feeling himself mixed with the delicious flavour of his favourite food was intoxicating. He continued to take bites, letting the taste flood his mouth, licking his lips to get every drop.

Nothing made Clyde Donovan as excited as a warm, juicy taco. Not girls, not Craig, not even porn. As he sat there, licking the last bits of cum-filled taco from his fingers, he heard his parents laughing at the television downstairs. If they only knew what taco night meant to him.

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Sorry, you can't unread it.

Review if you feel jealous of that taco~


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